The Fall Up

by Aly Martinez

  “Yesss,” she hissed, sliding her hands over my ass.

  I nipped at her earlobe as my cock swelled between us. I’d have given anything to skip to the end of that scenario—even past the losing-myself-inside-her-later-that-night part. I wanted to be at the very end—when she came home.

  Healthier.

  Happier.

  And all fucking mine.

  I was about to take her mouth in a needy kiss when Madison knocked on the door.

  “Everyone dressed?” she asked, cracking the door open but not coming in.

  Levee groaned and leaned her forehead on my shoulder. “Unfortunately. But give us a minute.”

  “Sorry. I need to finish you up. They’re calling for you back in wardrobe.”

  “Right,” Levee said, stepping away. Glancing down to my cock bulging in my jeans, she whispered, “What a waste of a perfectly good hard-on.”

  I laughed, adjusting myself. “Later. I promise.” I pressed a chaste kiss to her lips then closed my eyes and started alphabetically listing types of wood.

  Watching Levee perform was one of the most exhilarating experiences of my life. Sure, she put on one hell of a show, complete with dancers, wardrobe changes, and pyrotechnics, but even without the fanfare, she was mesmerizing. The way she commanded that stage, owning every note that escaped her sexy mouth, was cock hardening. I couldn’t have dragged my eyes away even if I hadn’t been utterly falling for her.

  I’d heard Levee’s music on the radio. I recognized the beats and the melody. But, after having gotten to know the woman who’d written them, I realized that the words were the most beautiful of all. Through her songs, it was clear Levee had been struggling for a while, but the most staggering part was how much hope and fight were woven into her lyrics as well. And, because of that fight, I found hope as well.

  She’s going to be okay.

  And so would we.

  I still didn’t know why Levee had been on that bridge night after night. I’d gathered that her life was stressful, but when I saw the way she came alive the moment she stepped on stage with a mic in her hand, I couldn’t imagine her wanting to escape it all. I was well aware that life wasn’t always what it seemed to an outsider. Something else had to be going on with her, and as her eyes continuously found mine in the front row, I had a sudden and burning desire to figure out exactly what that was.

  As the concert drew to an end, Devon retrieved me from my seat and escorted me to Levee’s dressing room. As usual, he was pissed the fuck off about something, but I was starting to believe that that was just his natural disposition rather than it having anything to do with me. The sound of Levee’s encore was blaring into the room as I relaxed on the small couch and propped my feet up. Closing my eyes, I breathed in deeply and began replaying the last twenty-four hours in my mind. Before I realized it, my cheeks were aching from the huge smile that covered my face.

  I was so fucking happy.

  And, if the twitch of my cock was any indication, I was horny too. The memories of Levee strutting across the stage had spurred that.

  When the last beat of the drum finally fell silent, I began to stare holes in the door. The concert had been surreal, and I was desperate to get my hands on Levee and remind myself just how real we really were.

  I jumped to my feet when the door swung open and people filled the room. Probably only five or six others came in, but the moment Levee entered the room, it felt like we were still in the middle of that sold-out arena.

  We’d agreed to keep this thing with us on the down low for a while, so even though she was standing directly in front of me, she was completely unreachable in the room full of people.

  Her face was slicked with sweat, and her makeup had begun to melt away. Tiny curls were frizzing from the top of her hair, boldly escaping what could only be described as hairspray’s death grip. But, as she stood in front of me in a tiny, black dress with desire filling her eyes, she was more gorgeous than ever.

  It took every ounce of self-restraint I had not to pull her into my arms, but since my eyes were glued to hers, I had no idea who else was in that room or if they knew about us.

  I did know they needed to get the fuck out.

  “You were incredible out there,” I whispered, and a shy smile pulled at her lips. Dropping my voice so low that it was barely audible, I buried my hands in my pockets and bent toward her, saying, “Now, get rid of these people so I can strip you naked and show you what watching you on stage did to me.”

  I backed up just in time to see her eyes darken, and a silent breath breezed through her parted lips. That simple reaction sent blood rushing to my cock and an intoxicating feeling I wasn’t ready to acknowledge yet spreading throughout my chest.

  Levee held my heated gaze as she shouted, “Everyone out! I need a few minutes alone.”

  The crowd continued to talk amongst themselves, but without a single question, the room cleared.

  If we wanted to keep up the façade, I probably should have followed them out then snuck back in, but I was more focused on the woman I was about to maul than devising an actual plan.

  My heart raced.

  Her nipples hardened.

  My nostrils flared.

  Her teeth grazed her bottom lip.

  My fists clenched at my sides.

  Her eyes flashed to my cock.

  The door clicked.

  Our bodies slammed together.

  Her hands were in my hair as my mouth dominated hers. Moans and growls mixed in a symphony of desperation around us. I couldn’t wait a second longer. Palming her ass, I lifted her off her feet and backed her against the wall. Her legs wrapped around my hips and her arms folded around my neck in a frantic need to be closer. There was only one way to possibly do that though, and it required me to let her go and roll a fucking condom on.

  I’d have given anything to rip her panties down and bury myself inside her wet heat bare. To lose myself in the moment and show her exactly how ravenous I was for her. I wanted raw and rough to quell the visceral need she made me feel when we were together.

  However, I wasn’t putting her in that position yet. No matter what fucked-up pattern my chest was banging out for her, it was too soon to ask her to trust me that deeply.

  Even if, in some ridiculous way, I already trusted her.

  “Hold on,” I ordered, releasing my grip on her ass.

  She clung to me as I kept her propped against the wall with my thigh between her legs. Her mouth attacked my neck as I raced to get the condom from my wallet in place. It wasn’t easy, but I was fucking her against the wall even if it killed me.

  After barely getting my jeans down over my ass, I scooped her panties to the side. Finding them soaked, I bypassed all preparations and roughly drove inside her.

  She cried out, but I gave her no time to adjust. I went wild.

  I wasn’t gentle as I took what was mine, but I knew that it was what we needed as I gave her what was hers.

  And that wasn’t just an orgasm.

  It was me.

  I never slowed in my hunt to possess her. Her nails dug into my shoulders as she rolled her hips against mine, forcing us both toward the edge of release.

  No words were exchanged. Everything had been said as we both came on the gasp of the other’s name.

  I’d claimed her. And, in turn, she owned me.

  It was almost as exhilarating as it was terrifying.

  Almost.

  I DIDN’T WANT to leave Sam. After an unbelievable night together spent with our bodies joined in one of a myriad of ways, I feared that, if I left for a month, I might lose what we had started. But I needed to get my life together so we could restart our relationship in a healthy place for us both—instead of on the top of that bridge. And, unfortunately, no matter how much it sucked, I had to do that alone.

  So, with that in mind, at nine the following morning, I blew Sam a kiss from the wrong side of the window as Devon pulled away. He stood, hot as ever, with his hands
shoved in his pockets, rocking from his toes to his heels. It made me feel marginally better that he hated watching me leave every bit as much as I did going.

  “He’ll be here when you get back,” Henry said, patting my leg when I began to tear up.

  “I hope so.” I swallowed hard and rested my head on his shoulder.

  “You want me to keep an eye on him while you’re gone?”

  I chuckled. “You mean the kind of eye where he wakes up in your bed each morning?”

  “I do believe that would be the most effective method for keeping tabs on him.”

  I shook my head. “Stay away from him. I don’t need you spending the next month trying to get your claws in his pants while I’m not here to protect him.”

  “Oh, please. Even if I didn’t have a dick, it would be a worthless attempt. He’s been hit by the Levee Williams effect. Complete with googly eyes and breathy sighs.”

  My insides warmed, and my shoulders relaxed. “He looked at me like that even before he knew who I was. That’s just Sam.”

  Henry tossed an arm around the back of my seat and squeezed me tight. “That’s how you know he got the full effect.”

  I closed my eyes and sighed.

  One month.

  It had to be done. The high I felt with Sam was only a patch. He deserved a whole woman, and as we headed to the airport, I was determined to be that woman.

  Two private jets and six hours later, I arrived at a rehabilitation center in Maine. It looked like a luxury hotel from the outside, but as soon as we walked into the back door there was no doubt it was a medical treatment facility.

  I’d been worried for days that we would be greeted by the paparazzi, but luckily, we arrived under the radar.

  Since we’d canceled most of my appearances, it had been speculated that I was going away for rehab. Everyone assumed drugs, but I’d taken to Twitter a few nights earlier, explaining that my body was worn out after my tour and I needed some time off to rest up. Fans seemed to be supportive and understanding, but it was the media who would ultimately cast the final judgment. Stewart was working his ass off, alongside my publicist, to give my “vacation” a positive spin.

  “Miss Williams, it’s so nice to meet you. I’m Doctor Terrance Post.” The elderly man with thin-rimmed glasses extended his hand in my direction.

  “Nice to meet you too. Stewart spoke highly of your facility.”

  “Well, that was kind of him.” He smiled. “Come on. Let’s get you checked in.”

  The doctor walked away, but my feet remained rooted. My stomach twisted with nerves. I didn’t want to do this anymore. It wasn’t necessary. Well, that was a lie. It was totally necessary, but it still scared the shit out of me. I was already feeling better, so maybe all of this was overkill. Sure, something had to change, but like this?

  Henry linked his arm with mine and tugged me forward. “Stop freaking out.”

  “I don’t want to do this anymore. I want to go home.”

  “Well, I want you to get better. So suck it up.”

  “Henry, please.”

  He released my arm and stepped away. “No. You’re not talking me out of this. Going home and falling back into your same routine isn’t going to help anyone. Not you. Not me.” Then he pulled out the big guns. “Not Sam.” He arched a knowing eyebrow. “You’re only freaking out because shit just got real. Well, guess what? Shit got real for the rest of us when we found out why you were really going up to that bridge every night.”

  I frowned, but we both knew he was right.

  “Just let these people help you for thirty days. That’s all I’m asking, Levee.”

  His little guilt trip didn’t still the angry butterflies in my stomach, but it did get my feet moving.

  “Thank you,” he said softly.

  “Shut up,” was my only response.

  THREE DAYS.

  Three fucking days without a single peep from Levee. I was losing my fucking mind. I wasn’t riddled with self-doubt or insecurity. Whether she knew it or not, she was mine on every possible level. I was, however, overwhelmed with worry. How was she doing? Had she made any breakthroughs? Why the fuck was she even there?

  Oh yeah, I’d chickened out of that conversation big time the last night we were together. After we’d had sex in her dressing room, she’d seemed so happy. The last thing I’d wanted to do was fuck all of that up by easing my own curiosity. So, instead, I touched nearly every inch of her body. I had a feeling she’d enjoy that more than talking about her past anyway.

  I’d told myself that I was going to give it a few days to let her get settled in, but after that, I was going to head up to her house in search of Henry. I was sure he wasn’t in the dark about her, even if I was.

  Thankfully, that was rendered unnecessary when my phone pinged in my pocket while I was working on an old piano I was transforming into a dining room table.

  Levee: I just wrestled a bear for custody of my phone.

  Me: A bear?! That sounds dangerous. But it explains all the “rawr” texts I’ve gotten over the last three days. I thought you were just being kinky.

  Levee: Ha! We’ve already established you aren’t kinky, but trust me, there is nothing even remotely sexy about this place.

  Me: Well, obviously. I’m here.

  Levee: Obviously. Anyway… Hi. How are you?

  Me: My soul is trembling that I’ll forget your touch.

  Levee: Hey, plagiarist! I wrote that!

  Me: Yeah, I know. I binged on your music last night. It’s pretty good. I bet if you keep practicing you’ll be able to make music a full-time career one day.

  Levee: Hilarious.

  Me: I do what I can. How’s the vacation going?

  Levee: Actually pretty good. The place is nice and I really like my doctor. My “helper” (aka: nurse) is a forty-year old man who’s covered in hair and makes Devon look like a member of the Lollipop Guild.

  Me: The bear I assume?

  Levee: Yep. He’s been holding my phone hostage since I got here.

  Me: So does this mean you have it back for good now?

  Levee: Double yep. Now, I have to go, but when I get back, I expect my phone to be filled with beer and chicken pictures. ;)

  Me: Sweet! Do I get kitty-cat pics?

  Levee: Be real, Sam. They don’t allow pets here.

  Me: Improvise.

  Levee: I miss you.

  Me: I miss you too.

  Levee: I’ll call you tonight.

  Me: I’ll probably answer.

  I smiled to myself as I lifted my shirt and flexed my abs for a quick picture. I’d barely pressed send when I noticed my mom standing in the doorway of my shop.

  “Did you just text someone a crotch shot?” she asked in her best “mom” tone.

  “Oh, God, Ma. No.” I walked over and pulled her into a hug. I couldn’t wipe away the grin that was threatening to split my face in half after even such a brief conversation with Levee.

  Mom hugged me back before stepping away. “You know, women share those pictures with all of their friends. Just last week, this guy sent me one of his bait and tackle and I showed it to—”

  I curled my lip in disgust. “Jesus. Why was some asshole sending you dick pics? And better yet, what in the hell made you think I would want to know that?”

  I was still riding my Levee high, but my mom’s talking about anyone’s “bait and tackle” was more than enough to ruin it.

  “I just want you to be prepared. You show one woman, you might as well just send it out as a group message, because all of her friends are gonna see it eventually.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up, but I didn’t send any ‘crotch shots.’” Yet. “Thanks to you, my genitalia is safe for yet another day.”

  “Oh good. That will make it even more special when you finally lose your virginity on your wedding night.” She gave me a look that dared me to argue otherwise.

  Given the fact that she’d walked in on me having sex with Stacy Davis w
hen I was seventeen, she knew better. However, I assumed she didn’t want to know any more about my “bait and tackle” than I did about her looking at pictures of some random dude’s.

  Patting me on the chest, she headed over to the claw-foot loveseat in the corner, which was still waiting to be picked up. “This is gorgeous, baby.”

  “Thanks. I love the way it turned out. You should have seen it before I started. There were—”

  “Yeah yeah yeah. Save your breath. You know I don’t understand a lick of what you say when you get all technical about tools and stuff. Besides, we have stuff to talk about.” She lifted my overflowing ashtray in my direction. “This is ridiculous, Sam. You have to quit. I will not bury anyone else. I can’t…lose you too.” She glared at me.

  She and Anne had been on my ass to quit smoking for years. I couldn’t count how many times I’d promised them I would. But, after Anne had passed away, I’d found myself with a cigarette in my hand more often than not. Guilt will do that to you. I needed to stop—I knew that much. But knowing and doing are a totally different story though.

  “I’ll stop,” I said, sheepishly shoving my hands in my pockets.

  “Swear to me,” she pushed further.

  “Come on, Ma. I said I’ll stop.”

  She dropped the whole ashtray into the trash can and took a large step forward. She was all of five feet five and a hundred and twenty-five pounds, but she was my mom. That one step was scary as hell.

  “Swear. To. Me.”

  “Fine. I swear,” I huffed like a sullen teenage.

  “Good,” she exhaled in relief, and a loving smile warmed her face. “Okay. Now that we’ve dealt with that.” She took another step toward me and turned serious once again. “Meg tells me that you’re dating Levee Williams.”

  “What? Since when do you talk to Meg?”

  “Since my son doesn’t feel the need to tell his mother anything anymore.” She crossed her arms over her chest and leveled me with a glare of guilt only women are able to shoot from their eyes. “You’re dating a celebrity, Sam. You didn’t think, ‘Hey, maybe I should call and tell my mom.’”